


I’m a tree that grows hearts; one for each that you take

by diggingthegrave



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:45:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4168155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diggingthegrave/pseuds/diggingthegrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>User andalusa prompted me: </p><p>"Last episode Vanessa told Ethan she hasn't liked trees since the cut-wife's death and I think after having chopped down the specific offending tree that Ethan should decide to change her mind about that with some forest loving, maybe the morning after their heated kiss...kind of a what happened in the woods before the walk down the road?"</p><p>So I did my take on it, I hope you (and everyone who reads it) enjoy it ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’m a tree that grows hearts; one for each that you take

Ethan spent the day working on the roof.

 

The storm and the lightning wrecked it almost beyond repair, but he managed to fix it.

 

They didn’t talk about what happened during the storm and the lightning and the wreckage almost beyond repair, but she invited him to a walk in the forest, to clear their thoughts and gather some supplies that got burned.

 

The silent walk turned into awkward conversation when he spoke about Mr. Lyle and the Doctor and how they wouldn’t give up on her. _They should_ , Vanessa thought, as she was about to give up herself, let the Devil take her, put an end to this torment and daily violation.

 

But Ethan was having none of this, and out of frustration he assured her: even if she felt like giving up, he wouldn’t. He would be there for her until his last breath.

 

Vanessa was overwhelmed. She couldn’t speak, nothing was coming out, the words choking her. What she would give to be normal, to live a simple life…

 

To not be so affected when the storms came.

 

Vanessa inhaled deeply. She needed to say something. He deserved something. This much she knew. They were walking side by side, when she lifted her hand to brush his arm. “Mr. Chandler,” she said, prompting him to a halt. “I would like to— to apologize, for last night.”

 

“Miss Ives,” Ethan started. “You don’t owe me anything.”

 

“I was harsh and inexplicable, I know.”

 

“Miss Ives—”

 

“ _Ethan_.”

 

His jaw clenched at that. Sighing in defeat, Ethan stopped and turned on his heel to face her again. His features softened then, and his lips curved up in a small, sad smile.

 

“It wasn’t your fault. I let myself get carried away with… something; the storm, the fire, the dance…” his eyes blinked fast, staring at some point above her head. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. But you don’t have to apologize for anything,” Ethan said as his eyes returned to her face. “I am the one who’s sorry for acting so recklessly.”

 

Vanessa didn’t blink; not once.

 

“So you regret it?”

 

Ethan snorted. She wouldn’t give up, he should’ve known better.

 

“That doesn’t matter.”

 

“So do you?”

 

Despite his mind racing, Ethan tilted his head and smirked. “I can’t win with you, now can I?”

 

Vanessa was serious though. “This is not a competition, Mr. Chandler.”

 

“So what do you want from me?”

 

“The truth.”

 

Ethan inhaled, deep. “No. I don’t regret it.”

 

“So why apologize?”

 

“Why did you?”

 

This time, Vanessa was the one who was taken aback. “I don’t know.”

 

“Do you regret it?”

 

Her first instinct was to flee. But she started this, she might well stay and finish it.

 

“No.”

 

Ethan looked down on his boots. He suddenly felt exhausted, stripped away from all the strength left on his body and mind. This should be enough for her. _God, let this be enough for her_.

 

“Now, let’s go back. It’s getting late, and that rabbit stew won’t cook itself,” Ethan dismissed with a wry smile, hand ghosting over her arm.

 

But all of a sudden, Vanessa grabbed his face again. He jumped, but soon enough her gaze locked on his and he felt as if he was being hypnotized by her eyes, her blue eyes, eyes that lured him into this goddamn world, caught him so deep, left him so trapped there’s nothing else he can do but to let himself drown on them.

 

She pulled him to her, lips parting to welcome his once again, picking up from where they left off the night before, a slow, tentative kiss, her tongue brushing his bottom lip, sucking him in. His arms snaked around her waist, one hand coming up her back and the other gripping right below her ribcage, as the kiss grew bolder, harder, and needier.  He pressed her flush against him until there wasn’t any part of their bodies that wasn’t touching, heads tilting to each side to deepen the kiss even further.

 

Ethan walked her backwards until they hit a tree; the barks clawing at her back made her gasp inside his mouth. Ethan pinned her down with his knee between her legs, running one of his hands down the back of her thigh and she raised it, the heel of her boot pressing hard against his ass.

 

Vanessa could feel him hardening even through the layers of fabric that kept their skins from touching, and she let out a whimper, rocking against him almost automatically. He winced and pulled their mouths apart, only an inch, but enough to make her lips burn, feeling the loss.

 

“Tell me to stop,” Ethan hissed, voice heavy, almost stuck on the back of his throat. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

 

Their lips were barely touching, their breaths deep, eyelashes fluttering. “Do you want to stop?” she asked in a whisper.

 

“No,” he answered low and hoarse. “Do you?”

 

Her eyes were fixed on his parted lips. She made no move for what it felt like hours, days, _eons_. In his ears the sound of the forest around them was muffled by the thrumming of his heart trying to burst out of his chest.

 

Then her fingertips started drumming on his shoulders, and her head shook weakly from side to side.

 

She’s afraid. She won’t deny it. There’s too much, too much going on already, too many dangers, too many worries, too much suffering.

 

Too much.

 

Is it really worth it to drag him down with her?

 

Is it fair to let him be damned with her?

 

_I won't be kept a prisoner in this house, Sir Malcolm. If I'm to be pent up, I'll choose my own cell._

 

The heat emanating from his body helped her make up her mind.

 

If she’s to be damned, she’ll well choose her own damnation.

 

Swallowing so hard she felt her throat sore, Vanessa finally answered.

 

“No.”

 

Her gaze met his then; dark, set on her. But before she could read what else was flashing on them his mouth closed on hers—fierce, hungry, teeth scraping teeth as she felt her blood pulsing in her ears, on her neck, in the apex of her thighs.

 

His hands were working frantically lifting up her skirt while hers fumbled with the hem of his woolen sweater or the waistline of his trousers—Vanessa was having trouble deciding, feeling lightheaded from the intensity of his kisses, the sheer need he displayed so openly and at the same time so inviting, so enticing.

 

His hand finally found what he was looking for, and Vanessa gasped at the brush of his fingers. Ethan chuckled and with his free hand nudged her elbow, motioning her arm to wrap around his neck.

 

“No,” she said with a firm tone. “Not before I do this.”

 

Her fingers were steady as she plucked the buttons of his trousers open, slowly, one by one.

 

When she looked back up his grin was feral and wide, and Vanessa had the utmost need to scrape her teeth over the dimples on his cheeks. She settled on his bottom lip instead, as Ethan bent down just enough to hook both wrists behind her knees and lift her up effortlessly.

 

Vanessa shivered in anticipation as she felt him, _my God, all of him_ pressing hard against her center, already dripping with the need of him, _Ethan,_ her Ethan, the man with hidden depths and unwavering faith in her, who pledged his allegiance to her and her alone, the man who didn’t give up on her when she wanted nothing more than to do so, the man who told her that _she_ was his purpose in this life.

 

Maybe this wasn’t damnation after all.

 

An urgent moan escaped her lips— a plea, and Ethan indulged her, as he always does; as he always will. Lining himself between her folds, he inhaled sharply as he entered her, sliding easily as her walls stretched, adjusting to his size. He stopped midway though, and Vanessa groaned. “What happened?”

 

His lips were dry; his whole throat felt side sand. Ethan licked them, and clicked his tongue before answering. “I—I just wanted to look at your face.”

 

“Ethan,” and this time she was the one grinning wide and feral. “Just fuck me.”

 

So fuck her he did, with a growl and a thrust so deep Vanessa cried out loud and dug her nails on the back of his neck, as his mouth snatched hers, swallowing her other moans. Ethan was slamming inside her, hard, his large hands squeezing her ass as she tried to spread her legs further to feel him all the way in, hard and hot and gorgeous and hers, just hers, lips and hands and cock and heart—

 

No, she would not think about _that_. Not now, not when he’s sliding in and out and in and out and _oh_ , slowing down and taking it out just enough to slam right back in and there’s nothing else she can do but to rock her hips to meet his thrusts, whimpering and groaning with him and kissing and—

 

Ethan swiveled his hips just enough to make the new angle hit her right at that spot, like he knew exactly where and how to drive her to the edge—and maybe he does know, he is more than a man after all, and that was the last thing that crossed Vanessa’s mind before whiteness exploded behind her eyes and she felt her whole body coming alive, out in the storm, struck by a lightning.

 

Completely sated.

 

Thoroughly fucked.

 

Maybe he was right all along.

 

Maybe this is how the world ends.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the lyrics of "Bachelorette", one of the most gorgeous songs ever written, by the goddess Björk.
> 
> "I'm a tree that grows hearts  
> One for each that you take  
> You're the intruder hand  
> I'm the branch that you break"
> 
> I personally feel it fits perfectly :)


End file.
